Passion Lends Them Power
by It's me get over it
Summary: The baby bomb in Quell interviews truly shook the Capitol. But where did Peeta even get the idea from? Who knew how to shake the citizens in such a way? There's a lot going on behind her Escort mask. Effie understands how to stoke a powderkeg, she gives her Victors the matches and trusts them change Panem.


_Now old desire doth is his death-bed lie,_  
 _And young affection gapes to be his heir;_  
 _That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,_  
 _With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair._

 _-_. _-_

"How are things going in here?" I called, sticking my head into Peeta's prep room.

"Good," Peeta answered. "I think-" he cast a look at Portia in question, "I think we're ready."

Portia nodded. "A little touch up of make-up and you're ready."

"Wonderful," I couldn't help gushing as I entered the room.

Approaching Peeta I took both his hands before the rest of the prep team could reach my Tribute.

"Oh, Peeta, you look so handsome in your wedding tux."

"Thank you Effie."

"Are you ready for your interview?"

There was a flash of uncertainty in his eye, telling me he hadn't come up with something as game changing as last time. I'd tried to steer him toward a ploy without giving it away to the bugs I know that littered the penthouse. Judging by his doubt I realise he hadn't pick up on it.

"I think I am."

I squeezed his hands reassuringly, hoping to impart the confidence I know he needs right now just with my eyes. I feel closer to Peeta than Katniss, I must admit. With this closeness I feel like we have a better understanding. I hope he's able to take some comfort from my belief in him.

Before I turn from him I think of a final way to try and get my idea across to him.

"Oh Portia, I was wondering if I could pick your mind for a moment?" I asked, turning from Peeta.

Stepping over to the Stylist, I allowed Zotico, Thekla and Hippogrif to take my place hovering around Peeta. Leading the other woman away slightly, I knew it looked I was finished with my Tribute.

"Of course, what can I help you with Effie?" Portia smiled, her eyes portraying her curiosity at my actions.

She knew me too well to not know I was up to something.

"Wonderful! Now was it the Twentieth or Twenty-first Games that the movie 'The Passion Games' was based on and the Game was almost terminated?"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Peeta standing straighter. I refused to acknowledge it in anyway and make it too obvious what I was up to.

"Oh, 'The Passion Games'! I love that movie! The classic story of John and Barb's love surviving the Games. So much better than the prequel 'The Love Games'," Zotico gushed. "And both of them were on earlier this week."

"Who doesn't love that story?" Hippogrif sighed as he fiddled with Peeta's hair.

I could see Peeta trying to make eye contact with me I steadily refused. He clearly realised _that_ was what I'd suggested he unwind after training to watch before having to leave for – appointments, during the week.

"I- ah- I don't know the story," Peeta commented.

The three people in his prep team looked at Peeta scandalised. I suppressed my smile knowing they would be only too happy to tell the story to him.

"How can you _not_ know that story?" Thekla asked horrified. "Everyone knows the story! They were both on this week!"

"I'm sorry. Love stories weren't exactly told in Twelve, we just try to live day to day. The only time we could afford to watch TV at home was for the Games, and I was too tired after training to watch any TV in the evenings," he answered sheepishly, throwing an apologetic glance my way too. "What is the story?"

"John and Barb were sweethearts and everyone in Eight knew they would one day marry. He was as in love with her as she was loyal to him," Zotico started. "Till he was selected as a Tribute the year he turned 18, and was taken away."

"He fought his Games and spent the nights by a fire with his allies speaking of the young woman he loved; of the plans they'd made for a future he now thought they'd never share," Thekla continued, her eyes going misty.

"But he won," Hippogrif took over. "When his Victory Tour ended he proposed and vowed they would fulfil all their plans."

"That is a romantic story," Peeta offered, not looking too convinced, nor inspired to my chagrin. "But it doesn't sound like enough for _two_ movies."

"Oh it wasn't," Hippogrif explained. "That was just the 'The Love Game'. It only helped set the scene for 'The Passion Games'. Now, 'The Passion Games' itself was set the next year; when Barb was selected as a Tribute. As a movie it was just _so_ much better. More drama, better plot twists and a better performance from the actors across the board. Not to mention the fact they couldn't get any of the original actors to reprise their roles for the prequel. That just created a huge continuity issue that, honestly, took away from the story. I mean some of the actors didn't even _look_ right."

Oh, I'd forgotten how much of a critic Hippogrif was, he could get significantly distracted by inconsequential details. But mentally I let it go; I knew Peeta was a skilled enough conversationalist to get it back on topic.

"I'm sure you're right Hippogrif. But the story…?" Peeta prompted with a disarming smile.

That's my Peeta, I internally beamed.

"Of course, sorry. Barb was selected as the female Tribute the next year, her last year eligible, and the heart of the Capitol was breaking with their most recent Victor who was forced to send his fiancé into the Games. During training it was clear that she'd caught the eye of a few of the other Districts male tributes."

"Oh that scene where John laments about his fear of watching her die or worse, another Tribute catching her eye back. And him being forced to watch her fall in love with another, because he feared she might view _their_ relationship as being forced and an expectation from the people of Eight," Thekla gushed. "That part always brings a tear to my eye."

"She didn't, did she?" Peeta asked.

"No!" Zotico laughed. "She became part of a group of allies; Thomm from Five, May from Twelve, both Dillon and Enit from Seven and Barb from Eight. Dillon let his feeling for her be known pretty quickly in the Arena. On the first night of their pack alliance Dillon revealed the lie she'd been telling the Capitol."

"What lie?"

"Her token," Hippogriff explained. "She'd said it was John's token to her, and that it was their promise bracelet; their engagement ring, so to speak. But Dillon said she was wearing it wrong. Said she was wearing it like their vow had _already_ been exchanged.

"Confronted with that, she confessed. They _had_ married; not officially, with forms or anything but a symbolic, simple District ceremony. They'd done it after she'd been selected. John wanted to let her know, without question, he would do everything he could to get her out of the Arena; and that their love was pure and true."

"Then a day later, after the Career pack had taken out most of their group and it was just Dillon and Barb- oh I love that scene!" Thekla interrupted, excitedly her voice taking a wistful tone. "Dillon was injured in the Career's attack, but was hiding it from Barb. The next night he became ill because of his wounds and Barb found out. But by then his wounds had become infected and there was nothing she could do to help him but make him comfortable.

"Softly by the small fire they had to try and help keep him warm he asked her, 'If we'd met in another time; another place- where we were just a man and a woman, tell me; would I have stood a chance of winning your heart?'

"And she replied, 'If it were a world; a life, where I'd not already given my heart to John; then yes.'" Thekla sighed tearfully. "The smile on Dillon's face was like he'd been declared a Victor."

"The next big twist was later in that conversation when Dillon tells Barb she needed to leave him at first light the next day whether he was dead or alive," Hippogrif continued, his own voice becoming choked. "She refused to leave his side while he's dying, and he countered that she had to live; not for him but for the child she was carrying."

"When that news hit the Capitol the public was outraged at the thought of an innocent child-"

"A Victor's child," Thekla stressed. "A child of a young man the Capitol considered _family_ …"

Internally I thanked Thekla for highlighting and focusing on that. I could see the wheels beginning to turn behind Peeta's eyes with this titbit.

"-being killed before the helpless father…" Zotico trailed off.

Despite Thekla's emotional clarification I could see in Peeta's eye he was still confused at how that was different from the 23 innocent children the Capitol forced helpless parents to watch being killed in the Games every year. There wasn't truly, but regrettably most of my fellow Capitol citizens were too blind to see that. Fortunately for me, none of his prep team seemed to have noticed his confusion at that detail and kept chatting away.

"There was a call for the Games to be halted until it could be determined if she truly was pregnant or not. There had been people in the Capitol that had noticed what Dillon had; that Barb had been chewing on an anti-nausea plant most mornings. And it was the closest, up to and since, the Games ever came to being suspended," Hippogrif pick up the story again. "Ultimately they said there were too few tributes left for a suspension in the Games to be viable."

"So they continued?" Peeta asked.

"Yes. Luckily Barb was able to win. She had the baby and together the two raised their son happily," Zotico finished.

"There's rumour they are planning to make a sequel about the son's Games in light of the mixed reviews the prequel got," Thekla commented.

No doubt with a different ending than his actual Games, I couldn't help thinking. That would be too tragic a fact to remind the Capitol. And there were too many truths simmering under the surface of that Games for Snow to allow that story to be told.

It might instil a sense of rebellion like the original Game did, or remind Capitol citizens of their outrage and Snow would not like that. Whoever started that rumour, or was pushing to make that story would soon find themself erased from the Capitol, I thought sadly.

"I always forget that was based on real Victors," Zotico mused. "But like Effie asked, which Games was that?"

The three member of the prep team turned to their Stylist. Within Portia's eye I could see she'd realised what I was doing. There was a silent approval in them which I, equally silently, thanked her for with my Escort mask still firmly in place.

It was nice having a friend I knew well enough that we could communicate in such a way. Especially since I knew we were monitored as often as Snow could manage; which is to say near always.

"'The Love Game' was based on the 20th Games, while 'The Passion Games' was the 21st."

"That's right! Oh, I knew it was around then, but I kept getting the dates all mixed up."

"What made you even think of that Effie?" Thekla asked.

I moved my head like I was checking the clock on the far wall; instead, I made eye contact with Peeta through the mirror.

"The parallels made it hard not to," I said softly, with slight pull in my voice. All for the benefit of the prep team and the bugs I knew were in room.

I saw the final piece fall into place in Peeta's mind and he would be using my idea. Wordlessly he sent me his thanks and I quirked an eyebrow in acknowledgment.

"It's almost time; I'd best go and collect Katniss. Won't be long now," I called exiting the prep room a smile on my face.

The Capitol won't know what to think after these interviews.

 _-._ _-_

 _Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,_  
 _Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,_  
 _But to his foe supposed he must complain,_  
 _And she steals love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:_  
 _Being held a foe, he may not have access_  
 _To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;_

 _-_. _-_

I don't have time to fully relax from Katniss letting me off for the call I made during the interview before the elevator opens. Haymitch and Effie should be back.

I turn intending to thank Effie but instead we were greeted by Haymitch alone.

"It's madness out there," he comments fully entering the penthouse. "Everyone's been sent home and they've cancelled the recap of the interviews on television."

Katniss and I move to the bay windows, trying to see some of the chaos below.

"What are they saying?" I press Haymitch. "Are they asking the president to stop the Games?"

"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here. But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?"

I can't help the disappointment that shot through me. The idea Effie had fed me was a good one, and if anything was going to stop the Games, I thought that would.

"The others went home?" Katniss asked.

A shiver went down my spine as I realised what that would mean.

"They were ordered to," Haymitch answered softly. "I don't know how much luck they're having getting through the mob."

"Then we'll never see Effie again," I lament voicing my disappointment.

I'll never get to thank her, never get to let know how much her friendship; her support has meant to me.

I turn to Haymitch and request, "You'll give her our thanks."

"More than that," Katniss adds. "Really make it special. It's Effie, after all. Tell her how appreciative we are and how she was the best escort ever and tell her… tell her we send our love."

 _Our love_ ; yes, that sounds right. Why didn't I think of that? Effie loved us both like we were family; more than my family, honestly. Ever since she called my name I realised how distant my family and I were. Fortunately with that realisation, and my expectation to die last year, I was able to see all the little things Effie did for us.

While Katniss focused on learning survival and keeping everyone distant in the training last year, I got to know some of the other tributes. The stories they shared about their Escorts made me appreciate Effie, and when she saw I valued her; we made a connection. To say nothing of the Victory Tour.

"I guess this is where we say our goodbyes as well," Haymitch commented breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Any last words of advice?" I ask.

"Stay alive," he offered, fighting a smile. His smile quickly disappeared and he pulled us both into quick hugs. "Go to bed. You need your rest."

"You take care, Haymitch," I softly thanked him.

Katniss and I go to leave. When we reached the doorway Haymitch called out.

"Katniss…"

I kept walking and allowed them their moment of privacy. If all went how I wanted it to, this wouldn't be there last meeting. Effie's idea may just be the spark that helps keeps her alive.

-.-

 _And she as much in love, her means much less_  
 _To meet her now-beloved and where:_  
 _But passion lends them power, time means, to meet_  
 _Tempering extremities with extreme sweet._

-Prologue, Act II, Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

-.-

*AN- I did originally plan for this to be a three part story (returning to Effie's POV for her time in prison and a taste of what she did to help Katniss and Peeta), but I just couldn't get out a third part I was happy with. Rather than pushing through and turning this into something other than what I want it to be, I'll just have to save these other ideas for another story. If people are interested in my take that is…

Anyways, it's been a long time since I posted here, so if there are any problems formatting, SORRY! I'll figure it out again.

Please review and let me know what you think! Did I get OOC?


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